


0400 Snack

by Louis_the_Snake



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Cereal, Comfort Food, Death Threats, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Mentions of Medical Practice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:01:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29117919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Louis_the_Snake/pseuds/Louis_the_Snake
Summary: Bashir can't sleep, and he wants cereal, but there's been a threat put out to Star Fleet Officers. So he wakes up his favorite operative.
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Comments: 3
Kudos: 40





	0400 Snack

“Garak, Garak wake up!” 

Garak woke up. The light was off, the window- while open- was dark, and it was by all accounts the middle of the night. Except of course the chronometer, which listed it as 0400. 

“What?” He heard himself hissing in the ‘wh’, but he wasn’t awake enough to care.

“Come get some cereal with me.” Bashir was in his room. In fact, Bashir was in his bed. Or on it, at least, leaning over him and gently shaking his shoulder.

“What!” He let his eyes fall on the human’s face. 

“I can’t sleep, I want to eat cereal out by the pond outside, but I can’t do that alone, come with me.”

“Doctor,” Garak inhaled, fortifying himself to try and answer, “You woke me up to eat cereal with you? That weird human grain thing?” 

“That is what I’m doing, yes. Will you join me?” 

“I believe that’s beside the point.” 

Garak sat up. He felt underdressed for a meal, even an impromptu one, with Julian Bashir. His pajamas were not nearly thick enough for the cold in the dead of Bajoran night, even if it was summer, so he got his bathrobe and covered himself in at least one more layer.

Bashir watched Garak put on his slippers from the place he’d sat on his bed. 

“So you are coming.” 

“Of course, Doctor, I’m coming. It’s dangerous to be outside alone right now.” There had been threats of violence against Star Fleet Officers on Bajor by certain cult groups, but of course Julian had refused to leave his patient-the old vedek who owned the house they were staying in- alone. Garak and a security officer had remained to support him. 

“Oh so is that the only reason?”

“I’m also already awake and see no point in going back to sleep.” 

“Come on, we can make it to the runabout and back in a few minutes.” 

“Your lack of caution still concerns me, Doctor.” 

“We’re going a few meters outside the compound to the runabout, Garak.” 

“I’d much rather you toast some of the bread they have here and soak it in water.”

Garak could tell from Bashir’s face that not only would that be a poor excuse for cereal, but he’d offended Bashir with that suggestion. 

“You are impossible, Garak.” 

“Should we wake Ensign Haldwell?” 

“We aren’t going to be out that long, let him sleep. I’d rather he be awake and alert in the morning, wouldn’t you?” 

“I would.” Garak was as ready as he would be so he opened his bedroom door.

They walked to the runabout cautiously, with Garak keeping an eye out for anyone nearby or the telltale flash of a sniper’s sight on the ridge. Julian seemed less concerned. 

“-And the virus isn’t communicable to humans or bajorans, but it would probably pose a threat to Vulcans, since they share a common ancestor. We were able to get the commander stabilized, but I’m glad the Romulans are planning on setting up more medical bases throughout the sector.” 

Garak hummed his response, a little preoccupied. 

“Commander Nuldi made a total recovery before we came down to the surface, but I’d have preferred to schedule another follow-up. Romulans can be rather hesitant to return for further treatment, I think they see it as a sign of weakness.” 

“I don’t blame them.” 

“Come now, Garak, you have to admit that thorough medical care is necessary to recovery.” 

“Admitted, but humans can be rather paranoid about extemporary checks and balances.” 

“We are like that primarily because we’ve had incidents where a few extra checks and balances would be useful, and would rather not let circumstances we didn’t foresee throw a wrench into the plans.” Bashir spoke with his hands, happy to be distracted.

“Throw a wrench-” 

“It’s a metaphorical wrench, if you throw a wrench into an old earth machine it will often break it.” 

“Ah.” Garak scanned the area. “That’s why you have a standard schedule for your follow-up appointments, then?” 

“Exactly.” 

“Will you have to schedule follow-ups for Vedek Pasat?” 

“Yes, but I’m scheduling them with a bajoran doctor who lives in the city just east of here.” 

“I see. How is his treatment faring?” 

“Well, it’s a complex issue, but I’d say he’s responding positively.” 

“We would do well to be out of here before the threats are realized.” 

As he finished his statement, Julian bounced ahead to the runabout and climbed inside. He turned the lights on a good twenty percent. 

“Two bowls of wheat squares with sugar, with two percent milk at four degrees celsius.” 

The replicator whirred with effort as it produced the two bowls, which Bashir brought out victoriously. 

“Need they be so cold?” 

“They’ll warm up as we walk back, here’s yours.” 

“What is it, precisely?” 

“Grain and sugars, in milk. It’ll get a little soggy on the walk back, but it’s usually eaten as soon as it’s mixed into the milk so it’s crunchy.” 

“Fascinating.” Garak stirred his bowl. The path back was well-known, and it would be easy to see if someone beamed in at this time of night or walked up on such a plain. 

“It’s a bit of a comfort food for some humans.” 

Once Garak finished his investigation of the cereal, he set about enjoying their walk. The stars of Bajor were brilliant, and the flowering of the Vedek’s crops spread a pleasant fragrance through the area. 

They made their way back up to the house, then around into the Vedek’s garden. It was a manicured thing, with plush grass and vibrant flowers, a stone path, a trickling water source spilling into the pond. Julian sat on the stone of the path, so Garak followed suit.

“Now, we feast!” Julian laughed.

“This hardly qualifies as a feast, my dear doctor.” 

“Humor me.” 

Garak did, taking a bite of the wet bread. Wet, sweet bread, he amended. Cold, wet, sweet, bread. It wasn’t pleasant on his teeth, on his tongue, down his throat. It tasted a lot like he’d simply bitten into a sugar cube. 

“Gastly human delicacies strike once again.” 

“You don’t like it?”

“I didn’t say that.” Garak chanced another bite, “It’s a lot like iced cream.” 

“I guess so. Not nearly as cold, though.” 

“I’m grateful for that.” 

“Do you hear that?” Bashir gestured with his spoon.

“What, specifically?”

“The bird.” 

“I’m afraid my hearing is much less acute than yours.” 

“Right. It’s weird to hear one singing this late at night, isn’t it?” 

“Is it pleasant, at least?” 

“Yeah it is.” Julian leaned onto Garak’s shoulder. 

They ate in the darkness, illuminated by two of Bajor’s moons. It was a warm night, even for midsummer, and Garak was comfortable to remain there with his warm human friend until the sun rose.


End file.
